Losing Balance
by Supfan
Summary: He wasn't the one she desired and they both knew it, but when everything could come to an end tomorrow...Sometimes a girl's gotta do, what a girl's gotta do. Marol (Merle/Carol) I'm usually a diehard Caryler, but I had to get this out! Not for young readers! Anyone interested in it continuing? Would develop AWAY from the smut...let me know!


**(A/N: Funny little story about this fic. The first two paragraphs have been sitting on a word document for something-like two years. I had a sudden decision to finish it...at midnight. The bug hit and I fought through my lack of sleep to put this up. I seriously couldn't sleep until it happened...I'm explaining this as an apology for the plethora of spelling, grammatic and punctual errors you are bound to encounter. If you see any really bad ones, point them out and I'll try to fix them! **

**Something new here...hope you like! Please review...it keeps me writing! )**

The first time had been...unexpected to say in the least. She'd been pulling cans from the pantry, her toes on the edge of the stool she was using to reach the top shelf. The impending fight with Woodbury was at hand and she was doing a few last minute preparations for those who might need to bug out. Carol felt the tell-tale wobble, but there were only a few more cans at the back. When the legs of the stool officially lost traction, she didn't even have time to feel the regret of her poor decision. Mid-fall, a calloused hand and a stumped arm caught her, guiding her fall from grace.

Rather than a sudden impact with the cool, cracked concrete, her face was buried in the chest of one Merle Dixon. Before she could thank him, the hand that remained on her waist began to move. At first he seemed to be checking for wounds, gliding over her skin in the most innocent of gestures. The musky scent of the room invaded her senses and she was breathing deeply before she realized that the enticing aroma was that of Merle, in all his natural essence. All-too-soon, the purity of his gesture was dissolving. He swept his hand up her back, under her shirt and under her bra, clawing her spine on it's way down to the top of her rear. She couldn't help the gasp sprung as his nails dragged down the length of her pale skin. A slight heat began to radiate throughout her system, though she was having trouble distinguishing exactly from where, before the burn settled between her legs.

Merle was _not _ her prime idea of a companion. No, he was close...but Merle wasn't the one she dreamed about when the prison went dark and the voices lulled to hums. He wasn't the one she'd pictured kissing the inside of her thighs, while it was actually her own fingers ghosting over the worn threads of her underwear. No, he was definitely not the one she had been longing for, but with his fingers now deftly dancing along the front of her cargo pants, she was finding it very hard to give a shit. There was a slight pause as her mind drifted to Daryl and the longing. They could be dead tomorrow and men weren't the only ones driven by hormones.

To everyone who had ever spoken to him for longer than a minute, Merle was a dick. He was insensitive, rude, and selfish. But Carol also knew he was passionate, intelligent and pretty damn attractive. He looked quite different from their past at the quarry, regardless of the missing hand. It had been so long since Carol had been touched like this. She grasped his elbows, stopping him for a moment. That cocky Dixon smirk fell into a hard line immediately and she held back the deep laugh of amusement that rang through her. He noticed and began to pull back. Eager to continue, Carol ripped her shirt over her head in one smooth move. Merle's form froze, turned to stone in the face of a _real_ woman. The only movement in the small storage room were the beautiful irises of his eyes, raking across her toned figure.

Swiftly, she brought her hand to the zipper of his pants and softly cupped the rapidly hardening flesh beneath. "As much as I appreciate the admiration, we have little time and I need _this_...now," she growled into his ear, pressing her chest against his. He didn't waste another second. With a strength that she couldn't help but admire, he threw the arm missing an appendage around her midsection and hoisted her up against the nearly emptied shelves, feet barely grazing the door. She was conscious of a long edge digging into her back, but it barely registered. With a grunt, she continued with her hold on his manhood, rolling her fingers into a light massage and dragging the zipper down. He fastened his mouth onto her neck, using his hand to tug at the strings of her pants and pulling them down her slender hips easily enough, baring all to her soon-to-be lover.

A pair of stiff fingers dragged across the slit of her crotch, diving in suddenly and spreading her arousal liberally. "Damn woman..." he groaned, sinking his teeth into her skin. Pushing past formality, Carol reached her hand into Merle's pants, freezing his member and lifting a leg high enough for him to enter, which he did with no warning and no hesitation.

As soon as he was buried within her, the dust covered shelves and stale, concrete smell were gone. There was only Merle and his absolutely exquisite cock pulsing within her. She threw her head back, letting out a low moan. It was like a dream long forgotten, this sort of passion for the young and careless. He moved in long strokes, his pants just open enough to get the job done. "Fuck, Merle," she ground out clawing at his shoulders at the sensations building inside her. Her blood was molten and she knew that it wouldn't take long for her to erupt. A haze clouded her, her hands fighting for any logical place, one of them landing on his cheek and neck. Merle's pace quickened and Carol opened her mouth, ready to sound off her release. In the most intimate gesture of the encounter, he locked his lips over hers, absorbing the sound and guiding her through her orgasm. The flood of euphoria washed through her, the feeling of his lips moving against hers was almost too much. He drank in her screams of pleasure, his hips jerking wildly desperate for his own release. Without intending, they stay connected at the mouth, their tongues dueling until Merle hit his crescendo.

With a sigh and a few spasms, Merle let the wave level out. Their foreheads remained joined, as well as their sexual organs, neither relishing the idea of ending this interlude. Surprisingly, Carol was the first to move, letting her foot meet solid ground, Merle's body separating from hers. The pair took a few moments to themselves, pulling away and rearranging their clothing...Merle taking a a few moments longer. Carol watched as he finished his last button, determined not to intervene and condescend.

Their eyes met. Slowly, Merle moved forward, his hand reaching behind her. Her breath caught as his chest came close, his nose within grazing distance of her own. Without a pause, he grabbed the last couple cans on the shelf and brought them down to her surprised hands. She flushed, "Thanks."

Merle through a wink at her and Carol resisted the temptation to smack him. Then a tender expression came upon him that surprised her more than the fact that they'd just had sex. "Anytime darlin'," came his incredibly soft reply. And then for the second big surprise of the their post-coital encounter, he brought his lips down to the arc of her cheek. "I mean that. We survive this...anytime."

And out like the morning fog, driven by a few rays of sun...he was gone. And like the morning fog, if it wasn't for some residual moisture, Carol almost wouldn't have believed it even occurred. The stool was still overturned, having flown farther in the corner at her fall than she'd imagined. Placing the last few cans in the packing crate, she righted the stool and set it aside. With a last glance at the shelf she'd nearly died trying to empty, she grabbed the crate followed the path that Merle lead.


End file.
